


The Ravine Affair, Part 2

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to The Ravine Affair.  Napoleon now knows Illya's secret.  Now it's his turn to wonder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ravine Affair, Part 2

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Open Channel D](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Open+Channel+D).



I’ve just been sitting and watching him for a long time now.  I still can’t believe we found him… that I found him.  Everyone else had given up and for good reason.  When the THRUSH goons finally admitted what they’d done with him, even Waverly didn’t think Illya could have survived, not injured the way he was.

He moves in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.  He looks almost angelic and I choke on my coffee at the thought.   That does it.  He wakes up and props himself up on his elbows.

“You, okay?”  His voice is gravely.  He rubs an eye and I pretend not to see how awkwardly he uses the hand.  THRUSH did a number on it.

“Coffee just went down the wrong way.”  It’s not a lie.  I don’t need to tell him why.

“Not sleepy?”

“I’m still on New York time.”  That seems to satisfy him and he lays back down.  

I wait for a good five minutes before I get up and walk to the bathroom.  I gave him first crack at the bathroom when we finally got off the mountain, thanks to UNCLE and a Snow Cat, and checked into this hotel.  It took him so long in there that I was afraid that maybe something had happened.  

He came out, looking more like my partner than some wild mountain man and smelling considerably better.  He hadn’t apologized for his hygiene and none of us had criticized.  The fact that he’d survived at all was something.

Then I see the bathroom and I’m ready to kill him.  

“You are a slob, Kuryakin,” I said, plucking a wet towel off the floor and tossing it into a corner.  The wastebasket was filled with hair and wet tissues.  

“Love me, love my mess,” he murmurs and I smile again.  I can’t help it.  I do love him.  And I nearly lost him.

After cleaning up the bathroom a bit, I strip off and step into the shower.  It was hot and suddenly I never want to leave it.  There are so many things cascading through my mind.  Mainly, what to do about what I’d overheard.

Those weren’t just empty words I heard Illya say in that cabin.  They were the words of a man in love.  In love with me and I wasn’t quite sure how I feel about it. 

Don’t misunderstand.  I love Illya more than I ever have anyone else in my life, even more than my wife.  He is everything I want in a soul mate and more.  I think I fell for him the minute Waverly introduced us.  But I learned to hide it – I am a spy, after all.  

After all this time, I am a little worried about finally admitting everything.  Did you ever have a dream that was so big and so wonderful that to speak it would mean the end of it?  I’d been terrified and now, well, now I know Illya feels the same… I think

Still, I am worried.  I remember the story about the man who suddenly got everything he wanted.  The ending wasn’t a happy one.  I would never have admitted the truth to him than lose him and what if I’ve read it wrong?  My mind was so cluttered with joy at his being alive – what if I’d heard what I had simply because I… we.., because I wanted to?

                                                                                ****

Not idea how much time has passed, but finally I turn off the faucet and step out of the tub.  There is a white robe and I pull it on.  Out of the stream, I shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

To take my mind off things, I trim my beard, determined to keep it until we reach New York, my badge of honor and my reward for a successful mission.

Finally, there is nothing left to do but either leave the bathroom or sleep in here.  I don’t want chrome and tile.  Suddenly, I know exactly what I want.

The room is dark and I walk carefully to the second double bed, but I pass it by and push aside the sheet and blankets of Illya’s bed.  After weeks without his smart ass cracks and quiet support, I need to be near him.  We’ve done this before and so it’s not unusual.

He doesn’t seem to notice and I settle down, thinking of the days ahead.  He’s going to need some medical care once we get back to New York.  A couple of his fingers have funny bends to them and there’s a strange lump on his side of his chest.  I think a rib didn’t heal quite right.  He’ll have to go through a whole barrage of tests before he’ll be allowed to return to duty – standard UNCLE procedure.  

“Can’t sleep?”  His voice sounds normal now and I wonder how long he’s been lying here, waiting for me.  “And don’t blame New York time again.”

“Just thinking of how lucky I am.”

“You?  I think I’m the lucky one.”  He rolls over in the bed and faces me.  He’s pale and thin, the only real other signs of his experience.  “After all, I was found.  How did you know where to look?”

“No idea.  I just knew.” I won’t lie to him.  I didn’t have a clue what moved my feet in the direction they did.  Credit the stars, guardian angels, God’s will, I don’t know.  I just had a gut feeling and went with it.  “Illya?”

“Yes?”

“We need to talk… about us.”

“I agree.”  Then he kisses me.  “But later, I think.  Okay?”

Words suddenly mean nothing.  It is just us and there is nothing I want more.  Tomorrow can hang itself.  Illya is in my arms very close and the world is very far away.   And that is very okay with me.


End file.
